“No, our guy says everyone that participates is willing and eager. There are private rooms, viewing rooms, and even VIP sections dedicated to observation only.”
“So, Charleston’s got an underground sex club that’s the perfect place for five drug dealers to meet without question. They go in under the ruse to watch sex, but really discuss trafficking.”
“That’s what I think.”
“How exactly is this place flying under the radar?”
“The BDSM community is generally private. People from all over come here—some to watch, some to participate, and some to enjoy the nightclub.”
“What are we going to do with this information? Not like we can raid the place with no reason.”
“We’re going in next weekend. There will be an email sent, requesting a VIP section for us next Saturday night. The division is setting us up as interested investors. Our backgrounds will include a series of silent partner
ships with very hefty bank accounts. If anyone does a background, we’ll have a footprint already laid.”
“I’ve been in town less than a year, but I’m still known. People may recognize me.”
“The club’s on the outskirts of town. Our man is going to get us in unnoticed, and we’ll be in VIP.”
“Well, that takes care of next weekend, but what does that have to do with tonight? I gotta say, this doesn’t feel right.”
“You and I are watching the club tonight. If my instincts are right, these dealers have already checked out the security of the place. They have a lot of plays in motion, one of them keeping the local police on their toes by stopping petty crime. If there’s a mastermind in the group, they’ll be paying attention to what’s happening in the city and how the local police are handling it.”
Kelly and I agree that, if there is a drug operation in the works, it’s not being led by typical thugs. East coast distribution will take a keen business sense and a lot of manpower. Whoever is in charge is most likely meticulous with details and planning.
“We’re still operating on the assumption that the car theft and the drugs go hand in hand?"
He nods.
“Besides the four of us and the captain, how many people in this precinct know about all this?”
“Captain Cornelius will make the decision of who else to bring into the circle.”
“Captain Corny will want small. He’s protective of his jurisdiction, and the more people who know, the more chance of word spreading,” I explain.
The three men crack a smile at my nickname.
Right then, the Captain strolls in, takes one glance at me, and smiles smugly. “How was church?”
“Jesus, this is getting ridiculous.” I grunt. “Do I even want to know how you know this?”
“Dawn and my wife do some volunteer work together. Word was out quick after you left. Emi’s mom called on the prayer circle for a whole new reason today.”
“Emi? As in Emerson Baker?” Agent Collins asks, looking between Captain and me.
“You know her?” My question comes out more of an accusation.
“Yes, I knew her when we were teenagers. A group of us hung out at the beach one summer. Emi was something else. My friends and I use to crush on her hard. Watching her prance around in her bikini, she was the spotlight of many teenage fantasies.”
Something about the way he refers to her sets off pure-blooded jealousy inside. I straighten my shoulders and cross my arms, ready to tell him that his ‘teenage fantasies’ can go to hell.
“Oh, she still prances, but now it’s more of a strut. I’d bet that’s exactly how she got on this one’s radar.” Captain jerks his thumb to me.
“Wait, is that the woman in the picture on your desk?” Collins’ eyes grow wide in recognition, then he blows out a low whistle. “Lucky son of a bitch.”
I remain motionless, my tense glare firing at him.
“Hey, man, no threat here. I haven’t seen her in ten years.” He raises his hands in defense.